Playing with Fire
by my crooked heart
Summary: Begins with the bombing of District 12 in Catching Fire, ends with the epilogue in Mockingjay. Splits between Prim and Gale's POV. Eventual Rory/Prim romance, onesided Gale/Katniss romance. Full summary inside! On hiatus, please read author's note.
1. Ashes to Ashes

**Disclaimer: All characters, places etc. are the property of Suzanne Collins.**

So, this is going to be a multi-chaptered fic which begins with the bombing of District 12. Each chapter title will be a letter of the alphabet (e.g. Chapter One is Ashes to Ashes, Chapter Two will begin with B, Chapter Three will begin with C, etc) so there will probably be 26 chapters and maybe an epilogue. The POV will switch between Prim and Gale with every chapter. Hope you like it, please R&R! :)

_WARNING: Eventual Rory/Prim romance, onesided Gale/Katniss romance. May contain some violence and strong language._

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><p><strong>Prim's POV<strong>

As soon as the screen goes dark, I know that something is wrong.

Silence descends over the Seam, a silence so deadly and final that I can hear the blood rushing through my veins. I look at my mother, who has turned a shocking shade of white. Her hands are shaking tremulously. I open my mouth to tell her not to worry, that everything will be alright, but before I can the front door bursts open and Gale races into the house.

"Get out!" he shouts. "Quickly, we need to leave!"

My mother utters a soft gasp, but Gale doesn't seem to think there is time for an explanation. He wraps a firm hand around her wrist and drags her out of the house, yelling for me to follow him. My gaze darts toward the garden, where Lady is nibbling on some leaves. Buttercup is lounging on the kitchen table. Without a second thought, I scoop the cat up in my arms and run as fast as my feet can carry me, ignoring my thudding heart.

I come to a halt just outside of the Victor's Village, my eyes growing wide. Hundreds of hoverplanes fill the sky, gleaming darkly beneath the sunlight. Gale throws a glance over his shoulder, curses under his breath and screams at me to move. Jolting back to myself, I comply.

We are not the only ones who Gale has saved. The streets are filled with people, some of them crying, others rushing forward with determination in their eyes. I see small children hurrying to keep up with their parents, a sight which breaks my heart. But that isn't the worst of it. Some are just waiting in their homes. They have seen the hoverplanes. They know what is coming. And yet instead of trying to save themselves, they sit and await their death. It goes against everything I believe in to leave them there to die, but I know that we have precious little time to get to safety.

Gale directs the swarms of people, leading us toward the Meadow. It's a good idea. It won't burn as easily as the Seam. When we reach the Meadow, Gale begins to pull down the chain-link fence. Quickly catching on, some of the other men and boys begin to help. I notice Gale's younger brothers Rory and Vick helping out, while Hazelle stands off to the side with little Posy in her arms. Good – they're safe.

With the fence down, Gale takes us to a place that he hopes will be safe. It is a lake, which will at least provide us with a drinking source. Almost as soon as we arrive, the first bomb drops. Someone begins screaming. In unison, we turn our heads in the direction of the Seam, and we watch our lives go up in smoke.

The bombs rain down for hours and the flames grow higher and higher. I can't look away. The bombers disappear after a few hours, but the fires carry on long into the night. It reminds me of Katniss. Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire. Tears fill my eyes. I wonder what her fate will be – but now is not the time to worry about Katniss.

Dawn approaches, and our makeshift camp receives a few extra survivors. They are people who were not fortunate enough to escape the bombs, but managed to avoid the most deadly. My mother immediately begins setting up a medical station, although there isn't much she can do without her materials. I offer her my help, because if I have to stand around doing nothing for much longer, I fear that I will go insane.

We do what we can, although it isn't much. Gale thanks us for trying. There are bags beneath his eyes, but he won't rest for even a moment. He saved who he could, but as far as he is concerned, that's not enough. He is determined to keep us alive, no matter what it takes.

Luckily, he had the foresight to bring what hunting materials he could. He produces a hunting knife, a fishing net and two sets of bows and arrows. He recruits those who are able-bodied and requests their help with hunting. Rory Hawthorne is the first to volunteer. Gale hands him a bow and a set of arrows, although he stares at them for a long while before releasing his grip. Rory is more slender and lithe than his older brother – Katniss used to say he had the perfect build for an archer.

They disappear into the woods, returning hours later with their spoils. There are over eight hundred people by the lakeside. Although Rory, Gale and the others have done the best they can, it won't be enough to feed us for long. I do my part by collecting various berries, using knowledge that I have gleaned from Katniss over the past few years. I avoid the poisonous berries, taking only the ones which I am sure will do no harm.

Those who are adept at cooking take over from then on, putting their skills to the test to try and turn what we have into a meal for eight hundred. It isn't much, but at least it's something.

I approach Gale as soon as he has a moment of peace. He is beginning to look worse and worse. The bags beneath his eyes have darkened and his olive skin has taken on a sickly pale tone. His heroic rescue has taken its toll on his health. I notice for the first time the burn covering one side of his face, and the awkward way he holds his arm. I frown. He is staring into the lake when I approach. He flinches when I lay a hand on his arm.

"Oh," he says, inclining his head slightly. "Prim. Hello."

I crouch down beside him and fold my skirt over my knees. The material used to be a pale yellow, but now it is stained with dirt and the blood of my neighbours and friends.

"You need to get that looked at," I tell him softly, pointing to the burn. "And that arm, too."

"It's fine," he replies, glancing down at his arm. "I don't have time for a medical examination anyway, Prim. I need to focus on how to keep all of us alive."

"Stop being such a martyr," I scold. "How are you supposed to hunt with a broken arm? If you really want to keep us alive, go to my mother and have her bandage you up. If you don't, it's just going to get worse, and then how will you look after us?"

He flinches again, meeting my gaze with troubled grey eyes. He opens his mouth as if to reply, and then a weary grin tugs at his lips. Gale gets to his feet and ruffles my hair.

"When did you get so smart, Prim?"

It's a rhetorical question. He leaves, heading in the direction of our makeshift medical centre. I stay by the lake, staring at the clear waters with a frown on my face. After a while, I slip off the leather shoes that I had been so proud of just a few months ago and dip my bare toes in the water. It's cold.

I stare at the black smoke still coating the sky and think about how fragile everything is. Just a few months ago, I was living in a warm, comfortable house with my mother and my big sister. Thanks to Katniss's victory in the arena, we finally had enough money to pay for the things we had always wanted – for my mother, the materials for her medicines. For me, the leather shoes and pretty dresses that Madge Undersee flaunted on a daily basis. My heart clenches for a moment. Where is Madge Undersee? Not by the lakeside, that much I know. Did she escape? Or has she gone up in flames, too?

I wonder how Katniss is, and what she would be doing if she were here. Does she know about the bombs?

My mind still whirring, I shake my feet until they're dry and slide them back into my shoes. I can see Gale in the distance, keeping a brave face while my mother tends to the burn on his cheek. Beside her, Hazelle is staring at her son with a sort of resigned pride. I know what she is feeling. She is so proud of what Gale has done – but she's terrified because he did it without any regard for his own safety, and the worst part is, she knows he won't hesitate to do it again. Yes, I know _exactly_ what Hazelle is feeling.

I feel exactly the same way about Katniss.

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><p><strong>Ta-daaaaaa! This is going to be my very first multi-chaptered Hunger Games fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hopefully this turned out alright. The next chapter will be in Gale's POV. Thanks for reading! Cookies if you review :D<strong>


	2. Breathe

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, as I've stated before!**

Chapter 2! Please R&R, as always.

_WARNINGS: this chapter contains angsty Gale and may contain some inconsistencies with the plot of Mockingjay, which I apologize for in advance._

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><p><strong>Gale's POV<strong>

_The picture is hazy, not the usual clear, static-free transmission that is reserved for the Games. Dirt and dust flies across the screen and the voices coming out of the speakers are distorted and crackling. The little sky that I can see is illuminated by glowing fireworks, but the real fireworks are happening on the ground._

_The earth explodes around Katniss, whose entire face suddenly fills the screen. I'm seized with a fierce hatred for the Gamekeepers. To them, this must be a twisted sort of irony. Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, about to meet her gruesome end beneath a sky of burning firecrackers. My fists are clenched._

_Dirt continues to burst out of the ground, and then a miracle occurs. A metal claw descends from the sky and retrieves Katniss's body, but she isn't lying limp and motionless – she's kicking and screaming, the same feisty, defiant Katniss Everdeen that I know and love. She's alive._

_I don't have much time to celebrate. The electricity suddenly shorts out. Silence settles over the Seam. And then, my finely tuned hunters ears hear something that will be silent to the others in District 12 – the low, buzzing drone of hoverplanes._

I don't remember much of what happened after that. All I remember is leaping to my feet, screaming at my family to run, and then racing towards the Victor's Village with all the speed I could muster. I know that I got my family, Prim, Mrs. Everdeen and that scrawny old cat out of the Seam and brought them to the Meadow, along with the others who had swarmed the streets. I don't remember deciding where to go. It was just a reflex.

Now, as I cast my gaze over the lake where Katniss used to come with her father, I offer a silent apology to my friend.

_I'm sorry, Catnip. We had nowhere else to go._

The entire area is filled with the people of District 12. Some of them are physically fine, if a little shaken. Others sport cuts, scrapes and bruises, but nothing too serious. Only a few are given the privilege of having their injuries tended to, because obviously, medical supplies are scarce. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are doing everything they can to help, but it isn't enough. I raise a hand to the singed spot on my cheek and glare at my injured arm. Although I know that I should at least have my arm checked out, I don't want to divert attention from those who truly need help. Instead, I busy myself with arranging the hunting supplies.

There are over eight hundred people here and all I have is a fishing net, a hunting knife and two sets of bows and arrows. My heart twinges as I look at them. If Katniss were here, we would be set. Her keen eye and shooting skills could keep us all in game for weeks.

But Katniss isn't here, and I can't hunt alone. I gather a few of the most promising teenagers from the Seam, along with my brother Rory. He has always been eager for me to teach him how to hunt, although I was reluctant. Katniss used to say that he would be perfect with a bow and arrow. I decide that now is the time to test that theory, and hand him one of the precious bows. He accepts it with a stern nod.

I divide the volunteers into two groups. One group takes the fishing net, while the other – comprised of the more brutish volunteers – takes the hunting knife. Shouldering the other bow and arrow, I motion for Rory to follow me. We creep through the woods, and before long, Rory has lived up to Katniss's expectations. Using only three arrows, he has managed to kill two wild hares and injure another. His face is flushed with pleasure.

After a while we return to the camp to convene with the other hunting parties. Between us, we have managed to catch some hares, a net of fish and a few foxes. If it were any other hunt, I would be pleased, but this isn't enough to feed all of the survivors.

Prim sidles up to me, holding her skirt up awkwardly. I raise an eyebrow and she tips it forward slightly, revealing the berries nestled in the fabric. Together, we bring the berries and the game to a group of women who are well known as good cooks in the Seam. They promise to stretch the food as far as they can and send us on our way.

I sit by the lakeside and close my eyes. I can still smell the smoke, still hear the screams of those who weren't lucky enough to escape the flames. I know that some of them managed to find their way to us, once the bombs had stopped dropping. But it's doubtful whether they will even survive.

I'm finding it difficult to breathe. My entire chest feels constricted. I'm concentrating on deep, soothing breaths when a hand touches my arm. Instinctively, I flinch away, and then look up to find Prim looking down on me with worry in her eyes.

"Oh," I say. "Prim. Hello." I will never admit it to anyone, but these days, I can't look at Prim without wanting to burst into tears. She may not share Katniss's olive skin, dark hair or grey eyes, but there is something about her that just screams _KATNISS_ at me. It could be her stubborn Everdeen spirit, or the determination that she displays on a regular basis. Whatever it is, as Prim gets older, it becomes more and more evident.

And Prim is looking a lot older these days.

She sits beside me and scolds me about my injuries, insisting that I go and get them treated. I try to argue with her, but in the end, I just can't do it. I do as she says and head to Mrs. Everdeen's little medical centre. Katniss and Prim's mother looks even more exhausted than I feel. She must be out of her mind with worry over Katniss, but she still offers me a smile as I approach.

She applies a healing salve to the burn on my cheek, which stings like all hell but is guaranteed to prevent scarring. My arm is a little more difficult to deal with. It isn't broken, but it is badly sprained. Mrs. Everdeen fashions a sling out of an old handkerchief and then apologizes, because that is the best she can do. I insist that it's more than enough, although by the time we settle down to sleep that night, the pain has become almost unbearable.

The next few days carry on in much the same fashion – I hunt with Rory, we try to boost morale, we pray that we will be saved. And then on the third day of our stay by the lake, a hovercraft appears.

My first instinct is to run. What if it is the Capitol, returned to clear out the only survivors? However, the hovercraft is devoid of the usual Capitol seal, and instead of dropping bombs on our makeshift camp, it lands in the Meadow. The door opens and Plutarch Heavensbee walks out, causing my jaw to drop. I reach unconsciously for my bow and arrow, but he holds up a hand to stop me.

"People of District 12," he says, casting his gaze around the area. "We mean you no harm. We wish to congratulate you on your bravery and resourcefulness, and offer you refuge in the area of District 13."

_District 13?_ Murmurs begin to shoot through the air. I grit my teeth. There is no District 13. It was destroyed a long time ago.

Sensing our hesitation, Plutarch reaches into his pocket. I tense, waiting for him to reveal a gun, or a knife. Instead, he pulls out a simple pocketwatch. He flips it open and holds it up to the sunlight. A golden symbol appears on the clock face, prompting a collective gasp among the crowd. A mockingjay. The symbol of the rebellion.

That's all it takes to convince us. We file onto the hovercraft, one by one, and once everyone is safely on board, Plutarch gives orders to depart. I watch from the window as we rush away from the smouldering remains of District 12, the Seam, the only home I ever knew – and I hope with all of my heart that we have made the right choice.

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><p><strong>Yay for Chapter Two! I really like this chapter, but it doesn't matter if I like it, it matters if YOU like it! :) Oh, and I wanna say a massive thank you to JezTheMockingjay74, who has commented on every single one of my Hunger Games fics so far. Thank you so much. You get a virtual cookie ^_^ Anyway, the next chapter will be in Prim's POV.<strong>


	3. Carrying On

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games and all characters belong to Suzanne Collins.**

Chapter 3, written in Prim's POV as promised. Again, I apologize if I've made any mistakes or created any inconsistencies with the actual plot of _Mockingjay_!

_WARNING: this chapter contains very light implied Rory/Prim friendship fluffy stuff (yes, I'm aware that that made no sense at all)._

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><p>My first thought when I enter the hovercraft is that I have made a horrible mistake.<p>

Everything is clean and white, too sterile for comfort. I'm struck by the thought that maybe my fellow survivors and I have walked into a trap. Perhaps the mockingjay was a trick. Maybe Plutarch Heavensbee is working for President Snow. Maybe I have just signed my own death warrant.

However, nobody lunges at us when we board. No attacks come, although I am tensely awaiting their arrival. For the most part, we are left alone. Plutarch makes sure that we are all seated comfortably and then disappears through a pair of automatic metal doors. I watch him go with an uneasy knot in my stomach. I realize suddenly that I have left Buttercup back by the lake – but it's too late to turn back now. The doors slam shut. The hovercraft takes off.

Gale strides through the crowds of District 12 natives, checking to make sure that everyone is alright. His presence is a huge source of comfort to me. I know that Katniss would want me to stick with Gale, and I make it my business to stay nearby. This also puts me closer to Rory, Vick, Posy and Hazelle, which is pleasant. My mother is still doing her duty as a healer, so she has no time to comfort me. At the moment she is looking after one of the small boys from the Seam who hurt his leg in the chaos following the bombs.

I manage to fall asleep sometime during the hovercraft ride. When I wake, there are people standing. Gale stands by the door with a stony expression on his face, his body poised to attack if any danger should come. Hazelle has gone to rouse my mother, who is snoring quietly in a corner. Vick and Posy trail behind her, afraid to be separated from her in such dangerous times. Rory, however, sticks by my side, offering me a comforting smile when he sees that I'm awake. I drag a hand across my eyes, yawn quietly and ask him what's happening.

"We're about to land," he replies. "District 13 is just below us."

I think back to the footage I have seen on television. Until Plutarch Heavensbee's hovercraft arrived to transport us to District 13, I thought it had been destroyed by the Capitol. _Although_, I think, _maybe that's just what the Capitol wanted us to think._

There is a slight grating sound as the hovercraft touches down. The metal doors through which Plutarch disappeared through before slide open with a loud _clang!_ The man himself strides through, a smile adorning his features. His mockingjay pocketwatch hangs from his pocket, glinting under the lights in the hovercraft. The District 12 survivors fall silent, and Plutarch begins to speak.

"Until now," he says, "you have all believed that District 13 was a nuclear wasteland. I don't begrudge you for thinking so, because you have all been tricked by the fear-mongerers in the Capitol. They want you to believe that District 13 was destroyed a long time ago, because that is the only way to be absolutely sure that you will fear them. I am here to tell you – District 13 is alive and well. Although its surface may be barren, the people of 13 have learned to adapt. I am sure that you will, too."

He looks around at us and his smile disappears, his face turning suddenly serious.

"I will not lie to you," he continues gravely. "District 13 is not a paradise. It is not a Utopia, free from the vindictive cruelty of the Capitol. It would be dangerous to think so. District 13 is simply a safe place – or at least the safest one we can ensure in times like these. By all means, make a home for yourself here. Make friends, extend your families. But don't make the mistake of thinking that you are free from the Capitol. At least... not yet."

With that, he presses a button, and the doors to the hovercraft slide open. Plutarch directs us out of the hovercraft with the help of Gale. Rory makes a grab for my hand and squeezes it tightly, surprising me.

"Prim," he says under his breath, "we don't know what we're walking into here, so I want you to promise that you won't let go of my hand. Do you promise?"

I hesitate before squeezing his hand, too. "I promise."

Our landing spot turns out to be underground. We walk onto the landing pad and then Plutarch leads us down a series of staircases. Those who cannot walk are directed to a small lift by a woman named Fulvia Cardew, who Plutarch introduces as his assistant. I cling tightly to Rory's hand the entire time, grateful for the familiar contact.

We walk through white halls, passing several doors marked with numbers. I don't really remember much of what happens next – the survivors are split, with families heading in one direction and those who are alone heading in another. During the confusion, I lose grip on Rory's hand, and panic momentarily before I see him ahead of me. I reach forward and grasp the back of his shirt instead.

Fulvia leads the families down one corridor. The walls are lined with doors. Fulvia pauses at each one before assigning it to a family. My mother and I are assigned to a door marked with the number _307._ Rory offers me an encouraging smile when I hesitate at the door, before being ushered away by Fulvia.

Inside, the walls are painted white. Four bunks are set into the walls. It is small and cramped, but it's a place to sleep with beds, blankets and pillows, and I'm certainly not going to complain. There is a hole set into one of the walls, which I peer curiously at.

It's not long before the exhaustion of the past few days takes its toll and I fall asleep on one of the lower bunks. Thankfully, it is a dreamless sleep.

It has been a month since the hovercraft transported us to District 13, and I am finally beginning to find my footing here. The daily routine is certainly different to the one in District 12. It turns out that the hole in the wall is a tattooing machine of some sort. Each morning, we insert our arm into the hole, and it tattoos us with a smooth purple ink. The ink spells out our daily routine for the day. They don't like it when we stray from the routine, although sometimes I manage to get away with it.

After all, my sister is the mockingjay.

We have seen Katniss sparingly since our arrival. Surprisingly, it turns out that she was on the same hovercraft that transported us here, although she was in a hospital-like area because of her ordeal in the Quell. She has since been released, and she is doing much better, although I know that she anguishes over Peeta.

He was not as lucky as we were. I don't know the full details – Katniss refuses to tell me, and my mother says that is for the best – but I do know that there was a plan to break the tributes out of the arena. It's more than just a rebellion. It's a war.

Katniss is the symbol of the rebellion, or so they say. She is the mockingjay. It's almost as if it was planned from day one, right from the moment she made her Capitol debut. I might believe that this was all rigged, even way back during the Reaping, but then I remember that I was originally intended to participate in the Games. I wonder, sometimes, what it would be like if I was the mockingjay, but the thoughts never last long.

If I had been the mockingjay, the rebellion would never have started.

One of the only things I truly like about District 13 is their willingness to allow me to help my mother with her healing. Since District 13 is being used as a sort of underground, military base in relation to the rebellion, they have plenty of use for decent healers. I have already learned a lot just from observing, and my mother says that soon I will surpass even her.

I'm not sure about that, although I do hope that I can help when the true war begins.

Living in District 13 has also given me a lot of time to think about what has happened over the past year. A lot of it is just a jumble of images, some of them accompanied by words, others by music, but one thing I am certain of is that I have changed. I am ten times stronger than the girl who stood in the square on her first Reaping Day, wearing her sister's hand-me-down clothes. That girl cried at the sight of a dead rabbit. That girl couldn't hurt a fly. Now, however, I am willing to do whatever it takes to beat the Capitol.

After everything they have done to us, I think it's finally time that we fought back.

Other people have started to notice my recent shift in behaviour, so I know it's not my imagination. Katniss doesn't treat me like a child so much anymore, and when I speak with Gale, I feel like we are on equal terms. My mother treats me like a colleague when we are treating someone. Rory doesn't feel the need to protect me like he did when he first arrived, though at times, I do feel his gaze on me. Katniss disapproves of it a little. She says that now is not the time for romance.

Whenever she says this, I argue back that Rory and I are friends and nothing more, but she just gives me a knowing look and tuts, shaking her head at me. She may not see me as a baby anymore, but she certainly sees me as naive.

Today, however, there is no Katniss to scold me for "flirting". She is currently in a hovercraft on the way to what remains of District 12, along with Gale and Plutarch Heavensbee. As soon as the trip was announced, an uneasy feeling came over me. I don't know why, but I feel like Katniss's visit to District 12 is going to be the catalyst for something much, much bigger than all of us.

And I can only hope that we are safe in District 13.

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed it! Please R&amp;R, I'd love the feedback :) Anyway, I wrote this chapter at 3:30AM, so I apologize if there are any typosmistakes. Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be in Gale's POV. Spoilers: Gale and Katniss go to District 12 (GASP! THE MOCKINGJAY FINALLY APPEARS!) and Gale wonders why he can't seem to get Katniss out of his head.**


	4. Deserted

**As always, nothing belongs to me.**

_WARNING: this chapter contains jealous Gale and light Peeta bashing (I'm sorry! I love Peeta, but Gale doesn't!)_

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><p>I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea.<p>

Getting everyone out of District 12 has taken its toll on me – maybe not so much physically, but it has definitely had an impact on my mental health. I don't sleep anymore. Instead, I see flashes of fire, bombs raining from the sky, small children tripping over their own feet as they hurry to catch up with their families.

They are safe now, or at least as safe as they can be.

Who would have guessed that District 13 really existed? Not me, that's for sure. Everything here is so different to District 12. Everything is clean and white and sterile. There is no lounging about. We each have a set schedule which we are supposed to follow to the letter, but Katniss never does.

When we arrived at District 13, we were supposed to forget that 12 had ever existed – and yet here I am, on a hovercraft to the ruins of my old home, because Katniss has some mysterious, unfinished business in District 12.

It took a lot of determination to organize this trip. Plutarch Heavensbee worried that it might be a trap, and tried to dissuade Katniss by insisting that there was nothing left in District 12. I could have told him that it wouldn't work. Once Katniss gets an idea into her mind, there's no turning back. I know that from experience.

We have almost reached District 12, and already, nerves have begun to take over my body. The last time I was here, I was fleeing from death. The last time I was here, people that I knew were brutally killed for no reason at all. I'm not sure if returning to a place that caused me significant psychological trauma is a good thing, but I'm doing it anyway. I had to – I couldn't allow Katniss to come here alone. She's going to need my comfort when she sees what the Capitol has done to the Seam.

Katniss requests to be dropped off at her old address. I won't be going down with her. My job is to remain in the hovercraft and keep my eyes and ears open, and to be ready to take action if there is any indication that she is in danger.

She adjusts the plastic headset perched on her ears. It was one of the conditions of her visit. She must keep in contact with me or someone else on board at all times. I can tell that Katniss hates it. Not being able to listen out for danger isn't new to her, but personally, I'm glad that she's wearing it. At least I can comfort her if things go awry.

The hovercraft deposits Katniss in the ruins of her old home, and she looks around it with wide grey eyes. I watch her carefully, toying with my own headset. Katniss takes a few steps before stopping and looking at the ground. Then she moves to her left, where a pile of charred bricks catch my eye. She circles the ruins of the house, running her finger along the remains of the chimney, stooping to drag her finger through a heap of ashes.

"Katniss," I say quietly, adjusting my headset to ensure that she can hear me. "Should I come down?" Below the hovercraft, she tenses and straightens up, before shaking her head.

"No. I'm fine."

She makes her way through the district, heading for the Victor's Village. I watch her go, keeping a keen eye on her at all times, although my mind has drifted.

Ever since the bombing and Katniss's rescue from the arena, things have been different. She was in a drug-induced state for a long time, and then when they finally allowed her to stop taking pills and IV drips, she was too busy feeling guilty over what had happened to Peeta to be how she used to. Even now, I can tell that she hates herself for letting them take him. I want to comfort her and tell her that there was nothing she could have done, anyway, but I know she wouldn't believe me. All she thinks about is Peeta, and how they're torturing him for information that he can't reveal.

I will be the first to say, I have never been a fan of Peeta Mellark. Ever since his phony romance with Katniss in the arena, something has seemed off about him. And when their phony romance looked like it could turn into something real, my suspicions about Peeta turned to hatred. In the most childish of ways, I wanted to grab him and shake him, and scream at him to get away from Katniss, because I had seen her first.

It was stupid. Pathetic. In the weeks since the Quell, I have done my best to put my jealousy out of my mind, because I need my wits about me if I'm going to help with the rebellion.

Besides, Peeta is important to Katniss now. And by default, he is important to me.

After a while, Katniss comes back into view. She is wearing her father's old leather jacket and clutching her game bag, which, oddly enough, is thrashing around. She signals for us to pick her up and the rebels comply. I stand near the entrance hatch, waiting for Katniss to ascend the ladder. I help her up when she does.

"You all right?" I ask shortly.

"Yeah," she replies, wiping at her face with her sleeves. She deposits the game bag on the floor and it twitches. A face peers out of the small opening and I can't help but give a small smile. Glaring at me from the game bag is Prim's scruffy cat, Buttercup. She took him from the Victor's Village, but left him behind when the hovercraft arrived to take us to District 13. She's going to be so pleased to see him.

Katniss tells me all about the condition of the district, although she doesn't need to – I've seen it for myself. The only surprise is her description of the Victor's Village. Unlike the Seam, it is still standing tall and majestic, not one of the twelve houses touched by the firebombs.

A signal, I suppose. From the Capitol.

Katniss is silent on the way back to District 13. I can tell that something is troubling her, but I don't want to press it. Most likely it is something to do with Peeta, and I don't think I can listen to another word about him. Poor Peeta, the martyr. Sacrificed himself for Katniss and got himself captured in the process. They think he's a hero, but I don't.

I just think he's a coward.

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><p><strong>So, I'm not too sure if I like this chapter or not, but whenever I tried to change anything it just felt weird, so here it is. I apologize for the Peeta bashing! I have nothing against Peeta, I promise ^_^ It's just that Gale is an angsty, jealous teenage boy when it comes to Katniss (in my world, anyway). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Next one will be Prim's POV, though you probably already figured that out by now. Please leave a review (don't be a silent reader :D) If there's anything you'd like to see then let me know because I'll try to work it into the stories ^_^<strong>


	5. Everdeen Spirit

**Disclaimer: blah-blah-blah, nothing belongs to me, it all belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

_Warning: contains angsty Rory (who was really fun to write, by the way). Also, I may have edited the ages of the characters slightly, but I have good reason. I intend on having some Rory/Prim romance later in this story, and I find it difficult to write romance for thirteen year old naive little Prim. So for the purposes of this story, Katniss and Peeta are 17, Gale is 19, Rory is almost 15 and Prim is 14. Please don't hate me too much for it, it just makes it easier to write. Also, I feel like a lot of time has passed since the Quell so they would be older anyway, and besides, they've all matured thanks to the rebellion. OK, anyway, onto the story. This one is in Prim's POV!_

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><p><strong>Prim's POV<strong>

One thing that has become abundantly clear to me during my stay in District 13 is the Everdeen spirit. My mother used to sigh and shake her head whenever my sister disobeyed her, and as soon as Katniss was out of earshot, she would roll her eyes and murmur something about the Everdeen spirit. I never really understood what she meant by that, but I do now. Katniss is stubborn and persistent – and I'm starting to realize that I am, too.

I'm not sure why I never realized before, but I think it's something to do with the strict rules in District 13. Back in District 12, there were rules, and they were certainly enforced – but it was a lot easier to step outside the lines than it is here. And while I'm not afraid of getting flayed alive if I stray from my path here, there is a certain unspoken agreement among all of us that for now at least, we should toe the line.

Still, although the strict rules have made it harder to be rebellious, I've been trying my best. I wasn't exactly a rebel back in 12 – I guess now, I'm trying to make up for it. I can't do much more than avoid my daily schedule, but I think that's enough.

Disobeying the schedule gives me a sort of strange thrill. It's not like I'm gaining anything from it, but it's thrilling to know that I am one of very few refugees who can get away with it. The thrill is sort of dampened when I remember that the only reason I _can _get away with it is because my sister is the mockingjay, but most days I manage to push that out of my mind.

Katniss is doing it too, after all. I often see her during my wanders, but I always duck out of sight before she catches me. She and my mother have been treating me more like an adult lately. They give me more freedom and they don't act like I'm too young to understand what's going on. I like that. I don't want to risk messing it up, so I can't allow Katniss to catch me out of bounds. It's as simple as that.

Today is safer than usual, though. Ever since her visit to District 12, Katniss has been tied up in meetings. I don't know much of what happens during these meetings, but I do know the biggest, most important detail of all. Katniss finally gave in. She agreed to become the mockingjay.

And it appears that the mockingjay isn't just a title or a symbol anymore. Katniss won't tell us what goes on in the meetings, but I have my suspicions. They are training her, her and Gale both. Knowing them as well as I do, I'm sure that they will both be great assets in the upcoming war. My mother doesn't like to think of that, so I don't mention it. Privately, I wonder how Hazelle and the rest of the Hawthornes are dealing with it. I suppose they never imagined this would happen. Gale turned nineteen recently. He was supposed to be free of the Games – now, he's walking into an entirely new set.

I'd like to talk to Rory about it all, but I don't see him too much these days. He's in training too. All of the refugees who were fourteen and over were given entry-level rank in the military, Rory included. It doesn't really matter that his mother didn't want him to do it. Here in 13, Rory is allowed to make his own decisions. Hazelle doesn't approve.

Sometimes, though, Rory sneaks away like me. He's risking a lot more by doing so – he could be stripped of his military status. He doesn't have a sister who gets special treatment. However, I like to think that Katniss would fight for him.

Today is one of the days when the training seems to have become too much for Rory, because I find him in one of Katniss's favourite places, the laundry room. She likes to fall asleep here during the day. I only know because I stumbled upon her during one of her naps. How Rory knows about it is a mystery.

"Hello," I say hesitantly, placing a hand on the wall. "Rory?"

"Hi, Prim," he replies, turning around with a smile. He's putting on a brave face, but I can tell that something is wrong. There are dark circles underneath Rory's eyes, a pinched manner to the grin he offers me. I cock my head at him.

"What's the matter?"

He sighs, closing his eyes and sinking to the ground. I approach him cautiously, wondering if I should bring him to my mother for a check up. He doesn't seem _sick_ exactly. Exhausted, maybe. But I don't think he's ill. I open my mouth to ask if there's anything I can do to help, but before I can, he answers my question.

"I'm not sure I'm cut out for the military life," he says half-heartedly. I lower myself to sit beside him and nod for him to continue. "It's just – Gale is the one who's good at this stuff, Prim. He's the hunter, the soldier. I try, but I'm just not as good at it as he is. But there's not much else I can do here, so I'm just going to have to deal with it, right? I can hardly bow out now. They need me. They need everyone that they can get."

He doesn't just mean District 13. He means the rebels everywhere, the rebels that organized themselves because of what Katniss and Peeta did in the arena. That seems so long ago – over a year. Maybe even growing closer to two years. Rory's right. Everyone is necessary. Everyone has a part to play in this rebellion.

"It's not your fault that killing things isn't in your nature," I tell him, although strangely it feels more like I'm comforting myself than him. "Gale was born to be a warrior. You weren't. That doesn't mean that you're not a warrior, Rory. It just means that it's a little harder for you. But maybe that's not such a bad thing."

"I don't know," he says, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think I _should_ just quit. I wouldn't be the first to do it. A couple of the kids from the Seam have already dropped their military titles. _They_ looked down on them for it, but I bet it must be nice, not worrying about when you're going to be sent into battle."

By _they_, he means the puppet masters of District 13. They do seem to look down on us, although I've tried to ignore that.

"Hazelle would be happy," I say softly. She would be. If Rory decided to step down, she would be overjoyed – at least then he would be safe. Gale is another matter entirely.

"I do think about it," Rory repeats. "But I can't. What would I do? You and your mother, you have skills that are useful outside of battle. That's why they haven't drafted you yet. You're healers. You're valuable. If I decide to step down, they might as well just send me back to District 12, because I have nothing else to offer them."

"Don't be silly," I argue. "You have plenty to offer!"

He rolls his eyes at me. "Prim, even Gale agrees with me," he says darkly. "Back home, the only thing I was allowed to do was skin the game that _he_ killed. Even back then he knew that I wasn't a hunter."

I think back to the few days we spent in the Meadow after the bombing and smile in triumph.

"But you _are_," I tell him, beaming. "Remember after the bombing? Gale took you hunting with him! And you were a natural! So stop feeling sorry for yourself, Rory Hawthorne. You were a natural with that bow and arrow. I bet Katniss would have been proud."

He thinks for a moment and then nods, a slow smile spreading across his face. I squeeze his hand briefly and then stand up. It's time for me to get back to my mother and Buttercup. However, just as I'm leaving, I hear Rory murmur something under his breath. It's very faint and almost drowned out by the sound of the laundry machines, but I'm almost sure that it was _Everdeen spirit._

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><p><strong>Sorry for the wait, guys! I really intended on getting this out faster but I had a mental block. So hopefully you all read the note up there about changing their ages. <span>PLEASE<span> don't be mad :) It just makes it a lot easier to write this way. Also, I know that in the books, Prim is 13, etc. I'm not disputing that. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review!**


	6. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Author's Note, 15th September 2011:**

I suck. I fully acknowledge this. I've completely abandoned this story and I just have no motivation to continue it whatsoever, so to those few fans of _Playing with Fire_, I'm sorry :( I will keep it up here and I hope that someday I'll get inspired to continue it, but at the moment, it's just too hard. I'm working on another chapter fic about the House of Night which, quite frankly, is a lot easier to focus on. I'm not trying to take the easy way out here, but my life has suddenly gotten a lot more complicated. I have an important school year coming up, not to mention the fact that I'm trying to find a job and I recently found out that I have a stomach condition that will probably be with me for my whole life. So, I'm sorry, but for the time being, this story is on hiatus. I'm still going to be posting fanfics about/relating to the Hunger Games, so I hope anyone who enjoyed this story will check those out. Again, I'm so sorry if you liked this story. Please do check out my other Hunger Games fics though - I will still be posting oneshots and I may do a different chapter fic with an easier plotline, I'm not sure yet. I'm sorry, guys.


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